Phoebe fell asleep in Hazel's arms. Hazel didn't dare move as Phoebe's head rested on her shoulder, Phoebe's arm hooked around her waist, clutching at Hazel's bathrobe.
When Hazel's legs began to go numb from kneeling on the floor for so long, she attempted to shift and lean back against the bed for support. But Phoebe whimpered, burrowing further into Hazel's shoulder with a small whine.
Nick placed his hand on Phoebe's back as he stood. He retrieved a pillow from Phoebe's bed and reached out toward Hazel's shoulder only to stop an inch away from touching her. He cleared his throat to get her attention instead.
Hazel glanced up at him, eyebrows raised in a silent question. He pointed to the pillow.
"For your back," he whispered.
Hazel nodded and leaned forward just enough for Nick to tuck the pillow behind her. She noticed he was very careful to not touch her in any way.
"Better?" he said.
"Yes, thank you," she whispered back, stroking Phoebe's hair away from her damp cheek.
Nick perched on the edge of Phoebe's bed for a moment, his elbows propped on his knees.
"How often do these nightmares happen?" Hazel said.
Nick shook his head. "Nearly every night after Marissa left. But they've tapered off to maybe once a month. I thought that school was helping. And when she picked out Luna, I was so sure she would never have another one again." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Guess I was wrong."
Hazel glanced down to see Phoebe's eyes closed, her dark lashes shadowed against her flushed cheek. Something in Hazel's chest squeezed. She'd seen students in distress before but this felt different, deeper, on a level that hurt Hazel nearly as much as it hurt Phoebe.
"Does she have any contact with her mother?" Hazel said softly.
She didn't look at Nick as she spoke. She knew the unpleasant impact that question would have.
"No," Nick replied, his voice gruff. "Marissa hasn't contacted either of us in three years."
He pushed to his feet, massaging one shoulder with a grimace.
"I think I'll go get some coffee started," he said.
Hazel didn't protest as Nick made his escape to the kitchen. No doubt he needed a reprieve after many hours with Phoebe. The strain would be exhausting.
Hazel gathered Phoebe up into her arms. She was surprisingly light and the scent of sage and peppermint lingered in her hair.
As Hazel tucked Phoebe into bed, Phoebe's fingers curled around Hazel's wrist.
"Don't leave," she whimpered.
Hazel knelt beside the bed and pressed the back of her hand to Phoebe's cheek.
"I'm right here, Phoebe," she whispered. "I'll always be here for you."
Phoebe gave a sleepy sigh and wiggled deeper into her pillow, never releasing her grip on Hazel's wrist. Hazel trailed one fingertip along Phoebe's nose, across her cheekbone, and down her chin. She watched the steady rise and fall of Phoebe's chest as she slipped further into sleep, calm, relaxed, and quiet—worlds apart from the chaos from before.
Once Phoebe was asleep, Hazel slowly released herself from Phoebe's grip. She tucked the blankets a little tighter beneath Phoebe's chin and kissed her forehead.
"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Hazel whispered.
She took one last lingering glance at Phoebe before she slipped out of the room and down the stairs. When she reached the kitchen, she found Nick sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.
Hazel knocked on the doorframe of the kitchen. Nick startled. His head snapped up, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion, taking too long to focus. The coffee maker was on the counter, half full of water but it remained off.
"I didn't mean to spook you," Hazel said.
She moved to the counter, took out her wand, and tapped the coffee maker with a spell. Within a minute, she had two cups of hot steaming coffee in hand. She placed a cup in front of Nick as she took a chair beside him.
"I don't know what else to do for her," Nick said. His voice was gravel-rough. A shadow of stubble had formed along his jaw, rendering his features a little darker, a little more worn around the edges.
"You're already doing everything you can," Hazel said.
"Doesn't feel like enough."
"Because she has to work out a few things on her own, too. You can't solve her problems. And Phoebe can't cast a spell to magically make everything sunshine and rainbows."
Nick huffed a dry laugh. "Then what am I sending her to school for?"
Hazel smiled faintly and propped her elbows on the table.
"Magic isn't a cure-all. I wish it was. Phoebe is just like you in so many ways. She simply has different...talents. You fix cars for a living. You can make a broken-down engine run again. That's a form of magic. For Phoebe, she can manipulate energy and harness power. Yes, Phoebe is a witch. But at heart, she's just a scared little girl who doesn't want to lose her father like she lost her mother."
Nick didn't respond. He stared at Hazel, searching her face. Then he finally nodded.
"Thank you," he said.
"I'm glad I could help," Hazel replied. She pushed her chair back and tugged her robe a little tighter around her. "It's nearly sunrise. I should head back. Keep Phoebe home from school for today. She'll be too tired to focus anyway. And if anything else goes wrong, let me know."
"I'll drive you home."
Nick scrambled up from his chair, already moving toward the door.
"That's not necessary—"
"It's cold and you don't even have a coat." Nick's gaze drifted down to her thin black silk robe then darted away again.
Without thinking, Hazel caught his hand to stop him. Nick went stock-still.
"Stay with Phoebe," she said. "I'll be fine."
Nick glanced down at their joined hands. Hazel began to withdraw but Nick interlaced his fingers with hers, his thumb skimming across her knuckles.
"Hazel," he whispered.
The first time he'd used her name and not 'Miss Aven'. Hazel wanted to hear it again, even though she knew she had no right to. The soft, hushed way he said it, like a promise.
Nick stepped toward her and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, trailing his thumb along her jawline. Hazel's eyes slid closed.
Don't do this, she told herself.
But when she opened her eyes, Nick was so warm and so close. And she melted right into him.
Nick cupped her cheek in one hand and shifted closer until his hip bumped against hers. His breath fanned across her lips and she leaned into him, closing that last miniscule scrap of distance to kiss him.
Nick kissed her back, slow and careful. Hazel nipped at his bottom lip, hungry for more now that she'd had only a small taste of him. One kiss was all it took. She never wanted to stop kissing him again, to go back to that desolate emptiness she'd existed in before this moment.
Nick's hand skimmed down her arm and curved around her waist, drawing her in even closer. Hazel sighed into his mouth and she could feel a small smile begin to curve his lips.
A thump echoed from upstairs.
"Daddy?" Phoebe called in a wavering voice.
It was like a shock of cold water.
Hazel jerked away from Nick, touching her lips as if he'd burned her.
"Phoebe," Hazel whispered, horrified.
Her gaze darted to the stairwell but Phoebe wasn't there. She hadn't seen the kiss. But that didn't lessen Hazel's guilt. It didn't erase what she'd done.
Nick reached out and cradled Hazel's elbow.
"It's okay," he said. "She'll understand. You saw how she reacted to you tonight."
Hazel shook her head as she retreated.
"No, that...I shouldn't have done that," she said. "It wasn't professional and I—"
She broke off, spun around, and heading for the door.
"Hazel, wait," Nick said, part plea.
She could feel him getting close—smell the citrus of his soap, feel that wonderfully addictive heat of his skin emanating from him. She turned and put a hand up.
Nick slid to a stop.
"I can't," she said. "I'm sorry."
Then Hazel ran out the door.